The Eternal SparkThe figure, Silas, held the strange paper with an almost reverent touch, his violet eyes intense as they scanned the unfamiliar symbols. They seemed to bore into Thomas, assessing something deeper than just his physical presence. "This," Silas finally said, his voice a low, resonant hum, "is a key, a fragment of a forgotten truth. It speaks of a path rarely trod, a path to… permanence." He looked at Thomas, a strange, almost mournful, glint in his eyes. "You, however, seem to resonate with its power."Silas then explained to a bewildered Thomas that the glyphs weren't just symbols; they were ancient resonators, capable of manipulating the very life force that flowed through all things. He spoke of a concept called "The Eternal Spark," a fundamental essence of being, which the glyphs could potentially control. This, he said, was a dangerous secret, almost lost to the world."Most are born to live, and then fade," Silas said, his hand sweeping across the dimly lit alcove. "But these," he indicated the glyphs, "these are tied to something more. They are connected to the eternal flame, that which never dies. They grant the ability, and a curse of, not letting it fade." He took a small, smooth stone from the table and, with a slender metal tool, etched a glyph on its surface. As he did, the stone seemed to thrum with a faint, internal energy, not light, but a deep, resonating hum that vibrated in Thomas's chest.Silas, noting the intense focus on Thomas's face, changed the topic toward his potential. "The stone is a temporary fix. Most would see the stone as a stone, but I can add to it using the language of life." He pulled up another stone that was withered, like it had lost all of its energy, and placed the glyph on it. After some moments, the stone slowly started to recover and return to its original state, albeit a little bit chipped. "The glyphs show you the way, but you, young Thomas, you are different. You are a living glyph, a part of that language of the universe itself."He took Thomas's small, calloused hand and, with deliberate care, pressed his index finger against Thomas's palm, tracing the same glyph that was on the paper. A surge, not of energy, but of something akin to liquid fire, raced through Thomas's veins. It didn't burn, but felt incredibly warm like every part of his body was alive in a way it never had been before. Silas explained that Thomas possessed a rare and unique gift, that his very soul resonated with the Eternal Spark, allowing him, over time, to control his lifespan. Silas referred to it as "The Eternal Echo," the ability to resist the natural decay of time and hold onto life itself, which at the time was very hard to comprehend for young Thomas. It was, he said, an immense power, and a terrifying burden. Thomas had the potential to live far beyond the ordinary, but could potentially go into immortality if he could control this gift.Thomas looked at his palm, the glyph now imprinted within him, not visibly, but a feeling beneath his skin, and he remembered when he stubbed his toe as he was trying to sneak from his father, it had throbbed and bled at first but felt almost instantly healed in less than a second. It was the first spark of understanding of this "Eternal Echo."It is always within you, boy," Silas said and brought up his hand, which had a similar invisible marking on it. He had to be close to Thomas to be able to even activate it. Silas showed it to Thomas, focusing for a bit, to show that a simple scratch he had on it was gone just as soon as it was made. "Practice is key, understanding is a bonus. Do not squander this power, young one. It is a gift that the few that have it would kill to keep." Silas handed him a small, worn book, its pages filled with more intricate glyphs. "This will be your guide. You need to learn the language, learn how to channel this life that you possess." He held up one last glyph. "There is an endless supply of energy, and potential in this mark, but you have to understand, for without understanding, you will be at risk, and could die with this curse. You are now part of the Eternal Cycle, where death becomes a new phase or a beginning."Before Thomas could fully grasp the meaning of Silas' words, Silas put away all his tools, "I will not waste any time anymore. Go home, Thomas, we can learn more another time. Focus on what is yours, for what is yours cannot be taken away. Remember that always."Thomas left the alcove with a pounding heart and an awareness of himself that had never existed before. He no longer just felt alive, he felt vital, like a burning ember that could not be extinguished. The prospect of living beyond death was terrifying, and liberating. He knew he had stumbled upon something immensely powerful, a secret that could reshape not just his life, but the world around him, and he knew his old life of being a downtrodden, abused child was no longer his path, he was something more. He clutched the worn book close, a single tear running down his face, filled with fear and a flicker of something akin to hope. 

The walk back to their squalid room above the tavern was different this time. Thomas's senses were heightened, the city sounds sharper, the smells more pungent. He felt like an observer, watching the mundane routines of life play out around him with a newfound sense of detachment. The familiar fear of his father's unpredictable rages seemed distant, a problem that suddenly felt smaller against the backdrop of his newfound knowledge and power. The idea of death, which once loomed like a constant shadow, now felt like a distant shore, a place he might visit, but wouldn't stay forever.He kept touching his palm, a small, invisible symbol of a big change in his life, the sensation of warmth and a reassuring presence. The book of glyphs was tucked safely within his tattered coat, a hidden treasure trove of a new, strange, and ancient language that he now felt obligated to learn. He entered their room to find his father still slumped in the same chair, snoring loudly, surrounded by a small ocean of empty gin bottles. His mother wasn't there, likely still at the whorehouse, trying to keep the money flowing. A twinge of the old fear tried to grip him, but this time it couldn't latch on, a weak sensation quickly overshadowed by the potent feeling of the life within him. He was now not just a child of an abusive father, he was the vessel for a force that could defy death itself.He sat on his pallet, and with a shaky hand, opened the book to its first page. The glyphs there looked similar to the one etched into him but were more detailed, intricate designs like drawings rather than just symbols. Some seemed to vibrate with an energy, just by looking at them, but the words that surrounded the drawings didn't make any sense. He ran his finger across the page, trying to sense the flow of it, and after a few attempts, he was able to hear an internal hum, like the stone from Silas, and he was able to decipher a small sentence of the meaning, something that read "Embrace the change, but keep it safe". This small internal voice, helped him read, and understand a bit better, it wasn't quite a language he could hear or understand from others, but almost a whisper inside his mind, with each glyph carrying a different sense and feeling that could be translated as meaning.He spent hours poring over the book, his small brow furrowed in concentration, his young mind grappling with the complex ideas. He tried to replicate the patterns with his charcoal on the wall, his understanding slowly growing with each drawing and each feeling. He discovered glyphs for bolstering his strength, for mending wounds, and for controlling the essence that kept his body alive. But also he discovered glyphs of death, glyphs of pure energy, and glyphs of change that he couldn't even make sense of, it seemed to be both a curse and a blessing at the same time.He even attempted some basic weaving, focusing his mind on a small crack in the wall. At first, nothing happened, but with persistent thought and visualization of his inner glyph, the cracks pulsed and changed, mending and re-breaking in subtle, impossible ways. This was new, this was different, but it was a change that he seemed destined to partake in.The next morning, his mother returned looking tired as usual and gave a small nod at him as she went to the chair opposite her drunken husband. Thomas tried to read the pages as best he could. "What are you reading boy?", his mother asked, as her curious eye caught the markings on the wall.Thomas quickly slammed the book shut. "Nothing, just drawings…" He tried to act innocent, but his heart beat with anxiety.His mother sighed, her gaze returning to her tired state. "Do whatever you need to stay out of trouble," she said before going to the other room and passing out herself. Thomas understood. He was alone in this, and the weight of this power became even heavier on his small shoulders. The weight wasn't a physical burden, but a weight of purpose. He had a future to learn about and grasp. He had a destiny to see and live.The following weeks became a pattern of learning and growth. During the day, Thomas tried to blend into the background, moving through the city's shadows, observing and learning while trying to hide his new capabilities. At night, he was buried in the book, practicing the glyphs and their energies, slowly mastering the language of immortality. The changes were subtle at first – his body felt stronger, his movements quicker, he started to get better at fixing his injuries as soon as he sustained them, and the feeling of hunger became less frequent, and his dependence on basic needs seemed to fade. However, this was just the beginning, and he knew his journey had only just begun.One thing that bothered Thomas though, was his mother's words "Stay out of trouble". It was as if she already knew the potential danger of what this was. He couldn't shake off the idea that the secret Silas held and shared was more dangerous than what was being told, and something deep inside of him made him want to find out the truth. Silas was still a stranger and he had handed Thomas something immensely powerful, a new life, one filled with more possibilities, but also full of potential for failure.

Driven by a growing unease and a need for answers, Thomas decided he needed to see Silas again. He waited until the late afternoon, when the shadows grew long and the city began to wind down, before making his way towards the docks. The journey felt different now; he moved with a newfound confidence, his senses sharper, his awareness of his surroundings heightened. He was no longer just a boy navigating the city; he was a vessel of potential, a spark of the eternal, walking among the mundane.He found the hidden alcove tucked between the warehouses, just as he had before. Silas was there, hunched over his table, arranging his tools and strange stones, and when he looked up, a hint of surprise, but mostly a look of expectation, crossed his face. "Thomas," Silas said, a low murmur. "I was beginning to wonder if you would return so soon."I have questions," Thomas stated, his voice surprisingly firm, his youthful timidity almost gone. "The book… the glyphs… What is all of this? What does immortality do to me?" He held up his hand, where the faint glyph still lay. "My mother seems to know something, but won't talk about it. She wants me to keep safe as if she knows what power I now wield."Silas sighed a weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of ages. "You are perceptive, child," he said, gesturing for Thomas to sit. "The power we discussed...the ability to control one's life force… it is not a gift, not truly. It is a responsibility, a burden even. It is also a magnet." He picked up an oddly shaped metal object that seemed to vibrate with a quiet energy. "There are those who seek this power, who would kill to possess it, but not many that know the truth."What is the truth?" Thomas asked, leaning forward.Silas hesitated, as if deciding how much to reveal, and let the silence hang in the air for a moment, "The Eternal Spark is not merely a source of life. It is a fragment of a power much larger, a universal force that sustains all things. When you control that, you are no longer just playing with yourself, you are playing with the potential of everything. It's a well that can only be tapped in a select few, but you, Thomas, have a full reservoir. It has existed for all of time and will exist long after you and me. Those who wield too much, end up losing themselves and those around them." He stared intently at Thomas with a hint of sadness, "and it corrupts."He continued, "There are… watchers, guardians, I suppose you could call them. They have sworn to protect the balance of the universe, and for them, a power such as yours is a threat." He turned the object in his hand. "They have been observing since they discovered the glyphs. When you started practicing the energy from them, your body gave off an invisible beacon that cannot be seen by most." He paused for a moment as he started to place his tools away. "They may not know you, but they know what you are, and how you resonate with it."Thomas felt a chill run through him, even though his new sense of body felt more invulnerable than ever, the idea of something that couldn't be touched, that could find him despite his secrecy. "Who are these… watchers?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Silas gave a wry, sad smile. "That," he said, his violet eyes filled with a pearl of haunting wisdom, "is a long and dangerous story for another time. For now, understand this: your power comes with a price. You must learn to control it, to wield it responsibly. You must keep it secret, not just from those who would abuse it, but from those who seek to extinguish it, the watchers."Silas approached him with a small amulet and placed it around Thomas's neck, it was cool to the touch, "This amulet will help you in hiding, it's like wearing a cloud of darkness around your light, it will give you more time to learn. But be careful Thomas, because when it fails, it will become obvious."Thomas nodded, a sense of foreboding settling over him. He had been gifted with immortality, but it felt more like a ticking clock than anything else. He had a power that could defy death, but it was a power that made him a target. He clutched the amulet, the cold metal a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond his perception. He looked back at Silas, questions still lingering in his eyes. He needed more answers, more information, but he knew this was all Silas was willing to tell him for now, and as he walked out of the alcove once more, the feeling of loneliness slowly came creeping back into his soul. His new, hidden, destiny was something that only he could embark on.